Taking off our Masks

"Is there anyone that fails? Is there anyone that falls? Am I the only one in church today feelin' so small? 'Cause when I take a look around, everybody seems so strong. I know they'll soon discover that I don't belong. So I tuck it all away, like everything's okay. If I make them all believe it, maybe I'll believe it too. So with a painted grin, I play the part again, so everyone will see me the way that I see them."

- Casting Crowns "Stained Glass Masquerade"

Last week saw great discussion about politics, so if I were smart I would milk that with another political topic. Apparently, I'm not that smart, because I'm a little burned out on politics at the moment (even though the Michigan Primary is tonight). Instead, I'm in a bit of a theologically reflective mood, so that's what you get today.

One of the gifts that I got in my Christmas O' Plenty was the very good CD from Casting Crown, Lifesong. The above quote really resonates with me, largely because it is one of the three or four points that I always preach on when given an opportunity. I've said many times how difficult the church experience was for me growing up, largely because I lived in a not so perfect family and all I saw on Sunday morning were the shiny, happy people. As a result, I quickly learned that church was not the place for honest or heartfelt revelation. There was a disconnect between what was preached and what was lived.

It wasn't until college that I learned that this wasn't a necessary disconnect; that the way of Christ leads through the Garden of Gethsemane and not through the rose garden; that it was acceptable to pray (even publicly) for something more intimate than your great aunt's sinus infection. The Church of Christ isn't the clubhouse of the perfect, it is the haven for those of us who have been smashed against the rocks of life and find themselves all too often overwhelmed by the floods of our own making. Since learning this lesson, I have tried to live an authentic Christian life, acknowledging my fallenness and seeking the strength that comes from God and his Church to overcome my sin. Every day I struggle with one undeniable reality: I am not yet who I long to be, and I will never be until I am united with Christ.

As I hear the above quoted song, however, I am made to wonder if I carry on this struggle too quietly. Does my flurry of "service" on Sunday mornings, my occasionally well polished words, make people think I couldn't relate to their struggles, that the application process to my faith requires a perfect life. I'm not one of the happy, shiny people, and if I have led any of you to think I am, that I have it all together, I apologize to you.

A related point and a question: It is odd and seems fairly egotistical to think about how others see you, but I find myself asking that question often as of late. What sort of face do I show the world? How do I want people to see me? I don't want to be seen as the perfect person; the great spiritual leader. My feet are made of clay too fragile, and we have only one spirutal leader. I guess more than anything else, I want to be seen as someone who loves deeply and unhesitatingly. I know I have made more than a few of you uncomfortable by telling you that I love you, but I have resolved that with as many people as there are in the world who stumble through their lives feeling unloved and unlovable that I would not waste one opportunity to let someone know that they are cared about. I'd also like to be seen as someone who is loyal and dependable. I would like to think that if you needed something that you wouldn't hesitate to call me because you would know that I would drop everything for your sake. I would like to think that I am someone who can be counted on.

I'm not sure if I've acheived showing either of these traits to the world, but it is what I strive towards (remember that I am not yet who I long to be). How do you want the world to see you?